I just want to feel real
by PassionateDarkness
Summary: Dawn has resorted to another form of letting her feelings out. A form which involves sitting on the bathroom floor cutting herself to feel something. Can Spike save her? What happens when the keys power bringing people from the future to the present? Revi
1. Wash away the alone

A/n: This is the response to Gidgetgirl's challenge on the CCS board.

"In season six, instead of becoming a klepto, Dawn turns to a different outlet for her emotions: cutting. Things are complicated by the fact that she still has her keyness, and Dawn struggles to hide her dangerous habit, and the dimension opening results, from her family.  
  
Requirements:  
Deal with Dawn's emotions on more than a surface level  
Giving depth to Dawn's keyness  
A flashback to Dawn cutting herself when she found out she was the key."

I have one request for this story. I don't care if you flame any of the others, but this one hits a little close to home. I went threw the whole suicide/depression/cutting thing and it was the stupidest year of my life. I don't want pity, I get enough of that from my therapist. Just please see past the stereotypes that its for attention and look at the reality behind the scars.

Enjoy! (As much as you can anyway)

Tears streamed down my face as I turned the shower on, hoping it would drown out the sound of my sobs and Buffy, Willow, and Tara wouldn't be worried. Worried. That's all they were. Poor little Dawnie; all innocent and key like. I was special, for once I was special, and then Buffy came and saved the day. I should have died. I was supposed to die, but no. Buffy had to have the glory. So she died, and came back to life **again**. I swear, my sister should be in the Guinness Book of World Records. Once I was positive that no one would bother me, I reached into the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a blue towel. Laying it down on the ground, I sat Indian style and pulled the pile of clothes I had brought in with me towards me. Inside the pocket of my star pajamas that Willow had gotten me for my sixteenth birthday, was a small dissecting knife and a white washcloth stained with blood.

"I am real," I stated, drawing the knife along my inner arm, sighing as the blood reached the surface. "I can feel," Another thin line, this time a little deeper. "I matter," Two became three, three became four. Before long my arm was dripping blood onto the white washcloth that wasn't white anymore. Reassured for now, I pressed the cloth to the cuts and applied pressure, taking in a deep breath.

"Dawnie, are you ok in there?" I heard Buffy's voice from the other side of the door. I closed my eyes.

"Yeah, I'm in the shower. I'll be out in a little,"

"Ok, Willow made chicken for dinner," I heard my sister walk down the hall before mumbling "Yippee" and getting into the shower letting the blood flow down the drain and the pain of being alone flow from my body.

A/n: As you all know I start every story with a little teaser to kind of ask people if I should bother. Should I?


	2. Presents

A/n: Next chapter! It's longer then the other one but still short.

"Dawn, why aren't you eating?" Willow demanded, glaring at my plate of chicken, which I had only taken two bites from. My wet hair hung limp on my shoulders and the fresh cuts on my arm still stung with a satisfying pain.

"Not to hungry, had a big lunch," I whispered quietly keeping my eyes on the piece of meat in front of me so the red-haired witch wouldn't notice I was lying. Buffy was terrible at lying. I guess I should be to since we're sisters and all, kind of. But I've gotten used to it. Tara sat quietly next to Buffy, eating heartily and pulling the blonde slayer into an unwanted conversation about fruit.

"Oh," Willow's green eyes flickered over my face before she joined the "fruit" conversation.

"I'm going upstairs, I have homework," No one heard me. Pineapples got more attention the little Dawnie. As I walked out of the kitchen, I detoured to the living room. I flipped open Buffy's weapons cabinet and pulled out a dagger. Testing the side by sliding it across my finger, I smiled as blood bubbled to the surface. I tucked it into my waistband and walked upstairs. I stepped threw the door as a bleach blonde vampire crawled in threw my window.

"Hey, stranger," I laughed, as Spike gracefully stumbled. Spike was the only one who cared, he was the only one who listened.

"Hey, Bit," He plopped down on my bed and turned to face me. The metal of the dagger was hot against my skin.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned, tucking my wet hair behind my ear.

"Was bored and was kinda missing it here,"

"You were at my birthday party last week and babysat me the week before,"

"Your sixteen, platelet, I really don't need to baby sit you anymore. You're a grown lady and such,"

"So, what's up?"

"You know how last week at your party I told you your gift hadn't come in yet?" I nodded. "It came in,"

"What'd ya get me!" He laughed and pulled a box from his duster. It was wrapped in comics from the newspaper and had "Nibblet" written on it in Spike's fancy handwriting,"  
"Well open it," He nudged, and I tore at the paper. Lifting the top of the box off I squealed. Inside was a leather jacket that could only be described as the female version of Spike's duster. The interior was crimson satin and it reached my mid thigh. He grinned, a real grin not his evil little smirk.

"Spike, I love you. I love you so much," I squealed throwing my arms around him. He hugged back for a minute before stopping and pulling me back, looking me in the eye. Green met blue for a moment before he asked the inevitable question I knew would be asked.

"Why do I smell blood?"


	3. Shadow

"Blood? There's no blood," I attempted, praying that his vampire senses were wonky and he couldn't smell the fresh blood on my arm.

"Nibblet,"

"I cut myself shaving is all," I knew he didn't believe me. I knew it simply by the look in his blue eyes and how he pulled me close once more, not letting go for a long time.

"I love you, Bit. Never forget that," He whispered to me, before slipping back out into the knight. Collapsing onto my bed, I began to cry.

"Dawn, why are you wearing long sleeves? It's sunny out today?" Janus questioned when I walked into homeroom. I looked at her skimpy tank top and short and sighed.

"Haven't done wash yet," I lied, taking my seat and pulling out my homework assignment. It was only half done and I quickly filled in random answers.

"Dawn, how exactly does x equal Brazil?" I felt myself blush as my teacher Mr. Jones took my paper from me. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Oh, umm, I'm sorry?" I attempted, blushing even more.

"Dawn, what's been going on with you lately? You've been so much more distant. You're falling behind. I suggest you pull it together," He handed me back my paper and walked to the front of the room.

Lately? I had been like this for a year now. Ever since I found out I was the key. I wasn't real. I didn't matter. No one cared. They pretended to care, they really did. But in the end, when they weren't yelling at me, I was the shadow. The unwanted shadow of the Summers family. Buffy the vampire slayers little sister. The key. The cutter.

The psycho? Was I really crazy or just trapped in this strange reality where I didn't feel anything except pain. Why me? Why was it me that felt this way? What had I ever done? Nothing, I'd never done anything. I wasn't real so I could have done something. A simple shadow.

I was the shadow who leaked tears and blood.

"Dawn, I'm going to the bronze then patrolling. Willow and Tara are out. I'll see you in the morning," Buffy yelled up to me that night.

"Ok, Buffy," I yelled back, silently doing a victory dance in my head. A night alone had many options.

"Spike will be over to baby-sit you in an hour," She hollered before slamming the door.

"Aw, Fuck,"


	4. Getting caught

"Nibblet, you here," I heard the worry in Spike's voice as he entered out house, having come as soon as the sunset.

"Upstairs," I hollered, pulling my sleeve down to cover my arm. A wristband was slid over the cuts and I sprayed perfume on myself to mask the smell of blood. I hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Ello, love," he greeted, coming into my room.

"Hey," I muttered, lying down on my bed.

"What's wrong?" He asked, sitting down next to me.

"Nothing, just tired,"

"I don't believe that, love,"

"It's nothing, Spike," I got up and walked towards the other side of the room, fiddling with the stuff on my desk.

"Dawn, I'm worried about you," He whispered, his voice so soft I could barely hear him. I took a deep breath, pushing back tears.

"I'm fine, Spike,"

"Dawn, I'm worried. I'm really worried. Every time I see you I smell blood on you, I haven't seen you in short sleeves in over a year, your more distant, and I cant loose you," He called me Dawn. He never called me Dawn and his voice at that moment held so much power and fear I felt tears prickle my eyes. He stood up, forcing me to turn around. "Let me see your arm,"

"No," I whispered, jerking away.

"Nibblet, please,"

"No, you don't care," I ran, I ran so fast that even with vampire speed he couldn't catch me. I locked the door, and I cried. I felt him stand out there; I knew he was there. I turned on the shower, stripped, and sat letting the water flow over me. My knees were at my chest and my head was resting on them. Sobs rocked my body. God only knows how many hours later, the sobs still flowed from my body and I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist. Spike drew me towards him, and I cried onto his chest. He lifted up my right arm and traced the cuts. His clothes were drenched as the water flowed over us, and I didn't even pull back. I didn't realize until hours later, that Spike had held me naked as water poured on us and as I cried onto his chest. He shut off the shower, pulled me from it and wrapped me in a white towel before carrying me back to my bedroom. After changing me into a long t-shirt, he stripped to his boxers, which weren't as wet as his outer clothes and climbed into bed with me. He held me close all night, long after my sobs had subsided and I had fallen asleep.

I woke up the next morning completely content. Spikes arms were wrapped around my waist and my head was rested on his chest. I moved to get up.

"No, can we just lay here a bit, love?" He questioned, tightening his arms. I nodded and laid back down, breathing in the scent clearly Spike. I was scared. I didn't to look him in the eye. He knew. He knew about the cuts and the scars and the blood and the tears. He ran his hand over my right arm and held it up infront of us. His fingers lightly traced the cuts, as though he wished he could heal them with his hands. "What did you use?" His voice was raspy, as though it pained him to ask the question.

"A knife," My voice was equally soft, more fear filled.

"Why?" His arms returned to my waist.

"I'm not real. What does it matter," I muttered into his bare chest.

"You matter, Dawn, you'll always matter,"

"No, I don't, I'm not real,"

"Every time you cut yourself didn't you bleed?"

"Yes…"

"Weren't those tears that you cried last night?"

"Yes…"

"You're real, love, you're real. And we're stopping this right now. Even if I never have to leave your side you're stopping this right now,"

I looked up at him and nodded, though I knew I wouldn't be able to stop. I simply snuggled back into his arms and drifted back off into sleep.


	5. Such Small Hands

Spike left soon after our little chat and I collapsed onto the still warm bed, willing myself to cry but knowing there were no more tears left in my body to fall. Twenty minutes later, I heaved myself from the bed just as the sun began to rise. Looking at myself in the mirror, I flinched. I was a wreck of tear stained cheeks and blood shot eyes. My dark brown hair was mussed and my lips hadn't smiled in a very long time. I tugged a black make up case from my dresser and sat down at the vanity. Foundation was much like the mask I put on every day when I had to face the world. A cover for what was truly below. I spread it evenly like my mother had taught me so, back when she was alive and things were less complicated. Dark black eyeliner lined my blue eyes, drawing eyes away from the sadness within. I pulled the brush threw my hair in machine like motions. Up, down, up, down. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

"Dawnie, you need a ride to school." I heard her, but I didn't answer. She came over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. I looked up, knowing my eyes were empty. Buffy had the "worry" look on her face.

"Yes, please," I whispered before returning to brushing my hair. She took my hand in her own. I looked down at our intertwined hands. Her fingers were slim and her palms were callused for handling all the weapons. It amazed me. Such small hands held so much power, such small hands had saved the world, such small hands had saved my life, such small hands with their pink painted nails and their diamond bracelet. She was short and blonde and she was a hero. She was my sister. But what did that leave me as? The key? The cutter? The…nothing. I was never meant to be. I was meant to die that night. It was my purpose in this world. If I had…maybe her small hands wouldn't be so cold. Maybe she wouldn't be dead inside. Maybe she would still hug Mr. Gordo to her chest at night and swoon about Angel. Maybe...everyone's lives would be a little better.

"Are you ok, Dawn?" Buffy asked, looking down at our hands. I nodded before releasing her and standing up. I shoved my books into my bag and put on the jacket Spike had gotten me. Buffy walked out of the room and I sighed, pulling a wrist band over my wrists just in case my sleeves rode up in school.

"Dawn, are you coming to the Bronze tonight," Janice questioned four hours later at lunch.

"Yeah, sure," I answered, not completely sure what she was asking.

"Wear something hot," She ordered, giving a flirtatious look to two guys across the caffiteria. "I plan on hooking up with Jordan. You can have Shawn,"

"Hi, Dawn," I looked up, my eyes landing on a tall seventeen year old with shaggy brown hair and brown eyes.

"Hi, Shawn," I whispered before taking a sip of soda.

"Are you going to the Bronze tonight?"

"Yes, we are," Janice answered, a huge smile on her face.

"I'll see you there. Save me a dance," He winked before walking away. I simply rolled my eyes.

"Girl, whats up with you? A like-woah hot guy just asked you out. You should be jumping up and down,"

"Woot-woot," I muttered as the bell rang. Four more classes to go, four more disappointed teachers to face, four more times to make up some reason as to why I wasn't paying attention. All I wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed and sleep. To sleep and never wake up.

An: I'm sorry, these chapters seem to be coming to me in short blurbs that sound their best written that way. Next chapter will be longer, I promise! Please Review!


	6. Bleeding Bints

A/n: Next Chapter!

Enjoy

"Dawnie, Janice is here," Buffy hollered up the stairs. I sighed, pulling a wristband over my arm.

"Good, now lemme see how you look," Janice demanded, looking me up and down. She grinned when she saw my outfit. Tight black jeans that were perfect for dancing but not too comfortable, a small black tank top that dipped low, my boots, and my duster.

"Do I fit the approval?" I half joked.

"You'll do," She smiled, waving to Buffy as she walked out the door.

"I'll be home by eleven," I stated, though I knew Buffy wouldn't be home to see if I was home or not.

"I'm spending the night at Brad's," I couldn't help but roll my eyes at Buffy's new sex toys name.

"Bye," I muttered, following Janice. Her older brother dropped us off in front of the Bronze as dark began to set. Deep breaths Dawn, I reminded myself as we walked into the club. Loud hard rock boomed from the band on stage and the air smelled of alcohol and lust. I couldn't help it; I smiled and began moving slightly to the music before I even got on the dance floor. Before I knew it, I was lost in the mass of bodies, dancing with all my might. Guys grinded against me and frankly I didn't care. They saw me. If they saw me I must be real. Arms snaked around my waist as I danced. I danced and I forgot. The song changed and so did my movements. Keeping the beat I changed to another guy. Then another, then another.

"Hey, Dawn," I looked up and realized I was dancing with Shawn. I smiled. He wasn't supposed to talk. Just supposed to dance with me.

"Hi, Shawn," I muttered, still dancing.

"Dawn and Shawn, hey we rhyme,"

"Uh…yeah," I allowed myself to be pulled away by another guy and continued dancing. I felt myself completely release as I moved my body. Song after song, guy after guy; I was in bliss. Every time a guy's hands touched my waist, I felt as though it was me he wanted. That he wasn't some horny teenager looking for a good lay. I was real. I felt real. Then it all came crashing down. The person dancing behind me was pushed away and a new guy took his spot. He possessively wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight as we moved to the music. I leaned back on his chest, sighing at how comfortable this was. His hands traveled from my waist and rested on my stomach, on the spot that peeked threw my shirt and jeans. His hands were cold but I was enjoying ever caress. His lips touched my neck, kissing it gently. It took a full ten minutes of this until I realized that the song was fast and we were dancing slowly. That the way the man held me felt so familiar. I whipped around, caught sight of who it was, and my jaw dropped.

"Hello, Luv," Spike greeted, a smirk coming over his face.

"S..S..Sp..Spike?"

"D…D…Da…Dawn?" He mocked, causing my eyes to narrow.

"What are you doing here?"

"Public place, Bit,"

"Did you know you were dancing with me?" I asked, noticing how he wasn't freaking out and yet I was.

"I was doin' a lot more then dancin', Platelet," He murmured, his voice seductive and unlike I had ever heard it. He wrapped his arms around my waist again and looked me in the eye. "Dream about me," He whispered, before brushing his lips across mine and walking back into the shadows.

"God help me," I muttered, collapsing into one of the chairs.

"Dawn, want to go for a walk," I looked up at Shawn and was about to say no when Janice glared at me from across the table.

"Sure," I smiled, following him outside.

"Dawn, I really like you…" His announced once we had walked outside. Before I could comment he was kissing me and I was kissing back. His hands roamed over my body and I didn't stop him. He wanted me. I was wanted. I was never wanted. I was always the problem. My arms wrapped around his neck as I allowed him entry into my mouth. His hands sneaked up my shirt as I played with his hair. I had to be real. He couldn't like someone who wasn't real. Then I felt him being torn away from me. I looked up, confused. Spike stood there his game face on. Shawn ran and my eyes widened.

"Turning into a bloody skank now? You're as bad as your sister. Bleeding bints having sex with random guys. For god's sake, Dawn, what the hell," He roared, pushing me against the wall.

"I am not a skank," I whispered,

"Oh yeah that's why he was feeling you up and you were letting him," I threw my fist back and it connected firmly with his jaw. I heard a crack but didn't stick around to see if he was ok. I ran. I ran all the way home before climbing the stairs and collapsing into bed. By then, I was really sick of crying.

A/n: It was longer!! Praise me and update!!!

-P.d.


	7. Our Daughter

"Dawn, please open the door," I buried my face further into my pillow, ignoring how Spike pounded on my door.

"Go away," I yelled back, tears still falling onto the bedspread. I couldn't do this. I stood up and reached for the knife. I sliced away at my arm.

"Dawn, stop it. Please, open the door!" I heard his voice get anxious. I was rocking back and forth, tears and blood mixing as it fell to the floor. Spike rammed against the door, knocking it off its hinges. I sat in the middle of the room, rocking back and forth cutting myself. He grabbed the knife and flung it out the window. Kneeling next to me, he applied pressure to the cuts. I was getting dizzy.

"Spike…"I murmured, and his eyes widened. I felt myself lift into the air then crash down onto the floor.

"Dawn," I heard Spike whisper above me.

"Go away," I yelled, scooting away from him. I was bleeding heavily and my vision began to blur.

"Dawn, I have to get you to the hospital," He reached out to grab me but I dodged his arm.

"No, let me die,"

"You know I wont let that happen, damn it,"

"Spike…something's happening," My voice was weak and I looked down at my hand, which was glowing green. Spike's eyes were large as a green ball of light tore itself from my chest and formed into something in the corner. I stared at what had formed, my vision blurring. I heard one final thing before I sunk into unconsciousness.

"Mommy?"

"Spike..." My eyes felt like lead, and I felt the weight of a bed beneath me and a small body curled up next to me.

"Dawn...are you ok?" I finally pryed my eyes open, noticing that I was in Spike's crypt. Next to me was a small girl with light brown pigtails and a small upturned nose. My eyes widened as I remembered.

"I think so," I looked down at my arm, which should have had about fifty deep slashes on it. Instead there were faint pearl like scars. "What happened?"

"She happened, luv," He muttered, hugging me tightly.

"Who is she?"

"Our daughter,"

A/n Really short, I know. ALl will be explained in the next chapter.


	8. Her

I avoided looking at "her". I looked at everything but "her" in the room. Spike's face was worn, as though he hadn't slept the night before which was true to say the least. He had stayed up worrying about me long after I had lost consciousness and then he had to keep "her" busy. His bright blue eyes had a dull tint to them, which might have been due to the bags underneath. Various bottles of liquor dotted the crypt, explaining without words to me why Spike was so strange last night.

"Bit…" His voice was rasp, as though it took every amount of energy in his body to speak that one word.

'Yes?" I replied and it took me a moment to realize my voice sounded identical to his.

"I'm sorry about last night…there's not excuse for what I said or did,"

"It's ok, Spike," And I got up and walked outside to go to the bathroom. When I returned, he had his head in his hands and if he were anyone other then Spike I would have been positive he was crying. But Spike doesn't cry. He's too strong. "Why were you drinking last night?" The question poured out of my mouth before I even had a chance of stopping it.

"Its no excuse for what I did," He looked up, his eyes meeting mine, and knew that I didn't care. I wanted to know _why_. I didn't want an excuse. "Big sis stopped by to see me yesterday while you were in school," I nodded. "She kissed me. A month ago…I probably would have taken her right there. You see I was obsessed with that slayer for so long, that having her throw herself at me should have been the happiest day of my unlife," I looked down. He didn't care about me. He just wanted Buffy. "But it wasn't, Bit, because a month ago, I didn't know about these," His hands lightly touched the scars on my arms. "A month ago, I didn't have these feelings I have. You were like a little sister to me…and then you started to grow up right before my eyes. I guess when Buffy came back I was too distracted to notice. So it was like one day, there's this bundle of innocence and fun and the next…there's this beautiful woman with scars on her arms and no one to help dry the blood. I left you alone, Nibblet, I'll admit that. As soon as the slayer stepped back into this world, I forgot. I forgot about the promise, about what fun we had, and all I cared about was getting into her good graces again. Getting her to forgive me for failing her. For letting her die. I remember now, Dawn, I remember,"

"Mommy," My eyes must have widened in fear because Spike gathered "her" into his arms and took "her" to the other side of the room. They sat there and played with brightly colored blocks. I smiled a small smile, wrapping the blanket tighter around me. Why exactly did the "Big Bad" have blocks in his crypt, I'll never know. I was just thankful at the moment for them as I drifted back of into sleep.

A/n: Ok, I was questioning putting this on hold for a while. Then I worked it out in my head. Everything with the little girl will be explained next chapter. Review please….


	9. Peanut Butter Bonding

A/n: I updated, and I cant even tell you how long it took me to write this chapter. Normally I just write them in about an hour, but this one took me three days, on and off. Review please.

Disclaimer: Challenge is by Gidgetgirl.

Distributions: Ask first.

Future of this story: God only knows how many more chapters, this thing is going on forever but I kind of want to do a sequel when I finish this.

Review!!

"You can't have children," I stated, pushing my knotted hair behind my ears. I suspect I looked as crappy as I felt, but Spike didn't seem to notice. She lay on his bed, her breathing slow and even.

"I know, but somehow we had a daughter in the future," It then struck me that Spike was just as confused as I was, but he took charge where I collapsed. I looked down at the pearly scars on my arms, still not believing that the gashes I had placed there the night before had disappeared.

"How old is she?" I took a sip of lukewarm tap water, trying not to show the look of disgust on my face at the metallic taste.

"Four and a half, or so she says," He smiled a small smile, and rested his head in his hands. I knew he was exhausted.

"Go to sleep, Spike, I'll watch her," he looked at me in surprise, as though not quite believing me.

"You sure, luv?"

"Yeah," I lied, and I think he knew but he was so tired he didn't object. The blonde vampire collapsed into bed, and the jolt of his weight on the mattress caused her eyes to open. They were bright blue, identical to Spike's. They searched the room and landed on me.

"Mommy," She whispered, and I knew at the moment that she had taken my shock at finding out she existed/would exist as not loving her. I smiled shakily at her.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, trying to avoid her eyes. She nodded shyly, a small smile on her face. I walked to the kitchen, and began to search threw the cabinets for human like food. There were mugs, blood stained and chipped, and a few stale crackers. I sighed, and wrote Spike a quick note that we were going to go get something to eat. After tying my hair up quickly, and grabbing Spike's wallet; I motioned to her to follow.

"We need to hold hands," She told me determinedly and I looked slightly surprised. "You said that I _always _have to hold someone's hand," So, unsure what else to do, I took her small hand in mine and we walked out of the graveyard. She looked around excitedly at all of the tombstones and I found myself thanking god that she hadn't woken up two hours earlier, when it was still dark out.

"Hold on for a second. Don't…move," My voice was meek and she nodded shyly as we walked to the phone booth. Two quarters slipped into the machine made a jingle noise that made her laugh. I dialed the phone number to my house, and sighed as the answering machine picked up.

"Hey, you've reached the Summers' residence. Buffy, Willow, and Tara aren't here right now. Please leave a message after the beep…oh yeah Daw…" Before Buffy could add my name to the list of people, the machine had cut off. I sighed once more, took my future daughters hand in mine, and walked towards the house I had only really lived in for about a year now. We walked in silence, and I suspected that she must have gotten a few more of Spike's genes then mine. After all, when I was her age; I never shut up. If I had existed that was….

"Yay, we're home,"

"We live here in your time?"

"Duh, Mommy, you're so silly sometimes," She laughed it off as I unlocked the door, trying to not wallow too much in the fact that I never/would never leave the hellmouth. "It's different," She stated, looking around.

"Is it?" I couldn't help the curiosity.

"No toys," She seemed sad at the thought before skipping into the kitchen. Such a happy little girl…it shocked me a little. Looking at myself, and then at Spike (who was basically Broody Jr. though he'd never admit it); I couldn't figure it out. She had my brown hair, that Spike must have braided into pigtails because I didn't, and Spike's big blue eyes. The Summers' nose and pouty lips. Spike's cheekbones covered with an adorable layer of baby-fat. She turned to look at me, and cocked her head a little; as if begging me to turn into the Mommy she knew and gather her in my arms. I couldn't…I just…I was sixteen years old. I wasn't a mother yet. Hell, I couldn't see myself living past my seventeenth birthday. Walking into the kitchen, I found her studying the refrigerator with great interest and a little disappointment.

"Where are all my drawings?" She asked quietly, her eyes scanning over the pictures and class notices that Tara had pinned up there.

"I don't know…" _'Great answer, Summers, you couldn't come up with something better then that? She's a little kid, give a damn already,' _I felt the strange urge to punch the little voice in my head, but settled to grabbing the wonder bread from the cabinet. "Peanut Butter and Jelly?" I asked, indicating to the bag. She shook her head venomously.

"No Jelly," I smiled; I hated jelly too. After grabbing four pieces of bread and putting them in the toaster oven, I grabbed the peanut butter and handed her a spoon subconsciously. She grinned, scooped out a little and promptly stuck it in her mouth. I did the same, before spreading a thick layer of the creamy-goodness across the warm bread. As I folded each piece over, she attempted to scoot her way into one of the chairs. I smiled and placed the paper plate on the table in front of her.

"Bloody wanker," She muttered to the chair, as she slid off it once more.

"No cursing," The words had fallen out of my mouth before I could stop them. She looked at me, a small Buffy pout on her face. I scooped her up, and placed her in the chair.

"Miwk," It took me a minute to realize what "Miwk" was before I grabbed the cartoon out of the fridge and attempted to find a child-friendly cup. I settled for a small plastic one and poured a little bit in the bottom. She chopped away happily, getting a small outline of peanut butter on the corners of her mouth, and grinned as I helped her drink the milk. I smiled back, still completely unsure about her and myself at the moment. "Bethie love you, Mommy," She told me as I laid her down in my bed.

"Mommy love you too…Bethie…" I crawled into bed next to her and fell asleep.

A/n: I know I detailed the lunch part a lot but I was trying to get across the similarities between Mother and Daughter. I tried to show how insecure Dawn is about this whole thing, but I don't know how I came off doing it. Any ideas for future chapters will be appreciated and I promise the Dawn-Drama will lessen a little in a few. As for the Scoobys finding out about Bethie (whose real name is Bethany); they will in later chapters. Review please!

-P.d.


	10. Promises

I kept my head down, pretending to be more interested in how my pancakes were swimming in syrup then in Spike's explanation as to why he woke me and Bethany up at two in the morning and took us out of the house and to a diner twenty miles out of town. I sighed, noticing that he had stopped talking and took a small sip of my soda before looking up. I didn't meet his eyes, couldn't bear to see the pain that filled them. He was studying me as I studied the scar through his eyebrow. Bethie was lying on the seat next to me, resting her head on my lap as she slept peacefully.

"What?" I finally asked, fed up with how he scrutinized me. I knew I looked bad, my hair thrown up in a bun and no make up on my face. I was wearing sweat pants and a large t-shirt. I self-consciously pushed my hair out of my face.

"You look beautiful so stop worrying," He bluntly told me and the tips of my mouth curved slightly. He tipped my chin so I was forced to look him in the eye. "Buffy came to my crypt, asked me if I wanted to patrol. I said I was busy and came to get you," I nodded, finally listening. "I don't think it'd go over to well for her to have come home to see you and the munchkin so I figured we'd come up with a plan and have you crash with me for a while,"

"I'm on Christmas break," I told him softly, thinking of something to tell my slayer sister. "I could say that Dad called and asked me to stay with him for the holidays. I doubt she'd even noticed if I wasn't there for Christmas," I couldn't hide the bitterness in my words. Damn Buffy. Damn Scoobies. Damn Christmas. No Mom to share it with so what did it matter. No tree. No presents. No turkey. Didn't matter much anyway.

"That'll do it," He smiled at me, that special smile he only gave me. And for a second I felt like I was needed. I felt like someone in the world wanted me, not the Key or the Slayers sister. Then that second passed.

"So what are we gonna do about her?" I questioned, my hand running threw my "daughter's" brown hair.

"Take a leaf from the Scoobies book, I guess. Research it."

"It's cause I'm the Key." I muttered and I knew Spike heard because he frowned. He had thought that was the reason too, but he was too much of a man to bring that up. Doesn't want to see a lady cry. I wonder if that's what he thought of me as. If I'm a lady then…something that is completely unrealistic is changed to something ordinary. I heard a saying once "A lady is only a lady until she forms a fist". What's Buffy then? Tears prickled me eyes for some unknown reason and he noticed. He always noticed.

"Bit," He whispered, and slid out of the booth to kneel on the floor next to me. He took my hands in one of his and used the other to wipe away the tears tracking down my cheeks. He rests his hand there, lightly stroking it. "Dawn, it's going to be okay,"

"Promise?" I was more pleading with him then asking. Begging him to take charge…to help with the emptiness.

"I promise," And I saw his eyes flash with pain. I knew he was remembering the other promise he made concerning me.

The one he couldn't keep.

Author's note: It's short but it's the best I could do. It was weird to update this story but I got the random urge to go back and work on the stories that I haven't touched in months. I'll try to update soon. Please review

p.d.


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